


Of All the Things She Could Have Said

by unsuccessfulpacifist



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Sex, F/M, M/M, Multi, a hint of exhibitionism, anachronistic storytelling, is it really major character death w these three tho?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-03 18:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11538348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsuccessfulpacifist/pseuds/unsuccessfulpacifist
Summary: She never said she loved them.





	1. Resentment

**Author's Note:**

> im a big nerd for Old Soldiers so here's some drabble and scattered scenes while I work on their characterization
> 
> EDIT: Now with plot!

The common space was dark.

He leaned his head back against the low rise of the couch’s back, shutting his eyes. It was quiet, which is what he needed; it was a chance of scenery, which is also what he needed. He had incorrectly assumed this would quiet his thoughts, yet they continued their relentless buzzing in the back of his mind. 

So much for sleep.

She entered on light feet, never light enough to sneak up on him, of course. Swathed in a dark blanket, she padded off to the kitchen and, without flicking on the light, switched on the kettle. 

“I’ll make you some tea.” It wasn’t an offer, so much as a running narrative. He smiled despite himself, not bothering to lift his head or open his eyes. A few minutes passed between them with a surprisingly comfortable silence until the water began to boil and was subsequently poured into two mugs. 

The soft clink of a spoon swishing the steeping tea finally drew Gabriel’s head up and dark eyes dragged open with some tired difficulty. “I came out here at night for a reason.” Namely, to be alone.

“Not the reason you’re thinking of.” This comment brought one brow to quirk above the other before the man just chuckled dryly. 

“You know me better than I know myself, eh?” 

“Of course I do. You’re too close to the situation.” She skirted the island and settled down the short few steps that separated the kitchen from the rest of the common area. He watched her move with a sort of idle interest. Even now she moved with a kind of underlying purpose he couldn’t help but envy. Like she knew what the hell she was doing. 

He slid his arms off the back of the cushions and cradled close the offered cup of tea, spoon handle sliding softly with the jostling motions. He didn’t much care for tea, but he’d learned to drink the damn thing when Ana was around. He stirred it for a few moments, unwilling to be the one to break the silence. 

Unfortunately for him, Ana was a patient beast and had no intentions of talking until he did. She curled up on the couch beside him, draping the blanket over her legs once she’d tucked them up against her body. Sipping at the tea, the sniper watched him expectantly until it grew to be too much for him to ignore.

He sat forward and set the mug aside on the coffee table a few feet from the couch itself. Burying his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, he sighed heavily. “What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever you feel like saying.” 

“I don’t feel like saying anything.”

“Bullshit.” 

“Ana.” 

“Yes?”

He didn’t have anything to follow up with, so he quieted again and drops his hands, letting them dangle between his parted legs. “I’m tired.”

“You’re upset.” 

“So what? I have every right to be.”

Ana shrugged simply, sipping at her tea before replying. “I didn’t say you weren’t justified, now did I?”

Gabriel sighed and leaned back, letting his head loll against the top of the worn cushions. “I’m a better leader.”

“Jack makes a good poster boy. He was the safer bet.”

This drew a look of mute betrayal as the once-commander lifted his head. The sniper lifted a hand to his shoulder, expression somber.

“The decision has been made, Gabriel. Let it be. There’s nothing to be done of it now. He’ll be a good leader; maybe not as good as you, but decent nevertheless.”

“Everyone’s on his side.”

“His side used to be your side too. Don’t forget those days so easily. We’re still on the same team.” 

He shrugged off her hand after a beat and shut his eyes with a minute shake of his head. “Maybe that’s true, but it’s not our team anymore. It’s his.”

“Well then, without us he would have no one to lead. A position of power is given that power by the people considered beneath it.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Not when you’re so set on being bent out of shape by this. I just want to help. I’m not your enemy and neither is Jack. It’s still the three of us -- it never mattered when you were in charge and it doesn’t matter if he’s in charge. Nothing’s really changed.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

She leaned over and kissed his cheek before drawing the blanket close, slipping to her feet. “I always am. Drink your tea before it gets cold. It’ll help you get some sleep.”


	2. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could’ve said it. Meant it. But she didn’t.

“He’s infuriating!”   
  
Ana paused briefly to rub at her temples before drawing in a slow breath. Her voice was even and articulate. “So are you, Jack.”   
  
He shot her a scowl, which she received with a cool look of her own. “Don’t give me that. You’re both a pain in the ass at times. He only does this to get a reaction out of you anyway.”   
  
“Exactly. He shouldn’t be questioning everything I do just to be a dick.”   
  
“He’s testing you. Your promotion’s never sat right with him. It’s frustrating for him. He feels usurped.”  
  
I didn’t chose this; he shouldn’t be taking it out on me!”   
  
“Jack.” Her tone was soft and sweet as she slid into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “You’re a good leader. He’ll get over it -- just stay strong.”  
  
He remained tense for a moment before he relaxed forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder. She shifted her hand and combed her fingers through his hair, teasing against the grain before smoothing it back out. “It’ll be alright.”   
  
He fell quiet and still, her soothing motions drawing out a somewhat defeated, exhausted sigh. "I just want things to be the way they were."   
"That's what he wants too."   
  
"Why are we always at odds these days? Everything's some kind of competition; I can't do a damn thing without him breathing down my neck and waiting for me to slip up." He lifted his head, blue eyes meeting her gaze, searching between them as if he could discern a perfect answer there.   
  
She hummed sympathetically, slipping her hand from his hair in order to cup the side of his face. Her thumb traced a small arc across his cheekbone and she leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "It's manufactured pressure. You have enough to worry about without this. Things will sort themselves out; just leave them be for now. Focus on Petras. Focus on your job."   
  
"I need a vacation."   
  
They both knew that wasn't a possibility - not now, at least. Too much to handle for the organization to lose its Strike Commander, even for a few days.   
  
"You wouldn't be able to relax then anymore than you can now."   
  
"Fair enough. Goddamn, I hate when you're right." He cracked a worn smile and she returned it with a warm one of her own.   
  
Jack let his hands fall to her hips, tugging her closer as he leaned forward until their noses brushed and he could set his forehead against hers. "Stay the night?"   
  
"I _suppose_ I can clear my very busy schedule to fit you in."


	3. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bone deep exhaustion.

His lips pressed lazily against her neck and her eyes flicked to the door. 

"I told him not to work late," there's disappointment in her tired tone, but she threads her fingers through black hair where it was still grown out, cropped shortest on the sides. 

Gabriel made a disinterested noise, pulling away from where he'd rested against her shoulder and drawing away from her hand. He rubbed a hand over his face as he sat up properly, blankets pooled lazily around his hips.  
  
"He's overworking himself again."

 "He's avoiding us."

"Maybe..." She watched the door for a few more moments before sitting up from where shed propped up against the pillows. She opened her mouth to speak but the panel outside chirruped a few times as the code was dialed in and the door slid open and some of the tension left her shoulders.  
  
"Speak of the devil." At the words, Jack glanced towards Gabriel, half expecting a malicious undertone that wasn't there.   
  
"Got caught up in a report -- didn't realize how late it had gotten."  
  
"Sure." Gabe's voice was laced with a biting edge that time, but Jack turned another glance his way and the exhaustion evident in his posture was just as clear in those blue eyes. A silent plea. Not tonight. Not tonight.  
  
Gabriel softened, then, and worked his way out from under the blankets, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to stand up and pace wordlessly over to where their commander stood. He roped an arm around the other's shoulders and tugged him towards the bed and Ana's chest ached.  
  
They had been so close before.  
  
Ana took time to slip out from beneath the blankets as well and circles around to Jack, keeping to the silence as she helped him work off his overcoat. She took care, then, to hang it by the door in it's usual place while Gabriel dragged the shirt up his chest and shucked it far more carelessly towards the bin of dirtied clothes. Jack settled down on the bed after, kicking off his boots and working off the last few pieces of his outfit to finish stripping into his underclothes. He laid back then, legs still resting over the side of the mattress, and shut his eyes with a sigh.  
  
"I love you. Both of you."   
  
Gabriel shot a glance towards Ana, who had buried her gaze into the wall for that moment with a quiet," We know." She said nothing more, leaning down to set aside his boots beneath his jacket.   
  
The Blackwatch Commander clapped a hand to Jack's shoulder as he settled on the bed himself, easing up towards the pillows. "Come on, then. Time for you to get some goddamn sleep for once."  
  
Jack complied, leaving a space for Ana. It hadn't used to be that way, but she'd become their unspoken buffer. The barrier that kept them from tearing out each other's throats near constantly.   
  
Ana headed back to the bed and settled into her spot between them, resting on her back with her long hair haloed against the pillow. Jack curled forward and rested his head against her stomach with a heavy sigh, letting her body's rise and fall of even breaths lull him into a hazy state. She lifted one hand and threaded her fingers through his hair, soothing him towards sleep.  
  
Reyes watched the two of them for a moment, expression only loosely guarding a deeply seeded hurt. Before Ana could address it, he was rolling over onto his side, putting his back to the two of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really tend to write smut, especially not for things like this, but who knows what time will bring??


	4. Demoralizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before.

“Don’t tell me your confidence is flagging?” She said it in jest, but a moment passed and the expression on his face softened her tone towards surprise and concern. “Jack?” She forewent his titles. This felt more personal than that.   
  
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this,” the man admitted, still settled on the edge of the bed. He looked up to where she lurked in his doorway and sighed. “I signed up to be a soldier, not a...:”   
  
“Poster boy?” Ana provided oh-so helpfully, watching the Strike Commander deflate further. The sniper paused where she stood and tossed a glance down either direction of the hallway. She then moved forward, letting the door slide shut behind her as the mattress dipped slightly with her additional weight.    
  
He buried his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. She scrubbed a hand beneath her eye, gloved fingers brushing against the tight black lines of her tattoo. “You’ve done good work. They chose you for a reason. I don’t think that they’ve made a mistake, either.”

 

“That makes one of you.” Gabriel had never been on board with Jack’s promotion. Ana sighed. 

  
“That extends far beyond whether or not he feels you were qualified.” 

 

Jack merely grunted noncommittally in response. The woman shut her eyes for a moment and evened out her tone with a slow inhale and exhale. “Jack. Look at me.”

 

The blond didn’t react very quickly, but he hefted his head up as if its weight was nearly too much to bear. He turned his face towards her and blue eyes brightened with surprise as her hands cupped his jaw on either side. 

 

“Ana-”   
  


“Shut up and listen to me.” She cut in over him to silence whatever else he was going to say. There was no hostility in her voice, but a clear authority she had a knack for wielding over people when she wanted to.    
  
“You’re a good man, a good soldier, a good leader. You’re the right person for this job. You look the part, yes, but you can also do the job that needs to be done. Being in a position of leadership doesn’t mean you always get to do what you want. That’s where you and Gabriel differ so drastically. He would rather do what he wanted instead of what was necessary. Bearing the weight of what you’ve done and what you’ll have to do won’t be easy, but I  _ know _ that you’re strong enough.”

 

He searched her eyes, expression hard to read. He opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him again, this time with her lips against his. It hadn’t been a calculated move, but she didn’t think twice about it. Once the confusion faded, he kissed her back, one hand finding it’s way into her hair from the side of her face. They continued on for a few moments before he pressed his forehead to hers and pulled their lips apart.   
  
“You’re my subordinate officer, Amari.” 

  
She drew back as their eyes met again, her expression closed off this time. She moved to respond but shut her mouth a second later after deciding against it. She simply nodded once and dropped her hands from his face.    
  
As she stood, she turned towards the door before she finally said anything. “I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow, then. Good luck at the press conference, Commander. You’ll do well. You always do.”    
  
And with that, she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck it we're just gonna do short chapters forever or I'll never update and finish anything rip


	5. Breakthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actually paying attention to this fic again, only like... a little under a year later, rip... as always, sorry about the weird spacing -- copy pasta never seems to like me very much :(

“Captain?”    
  
Ana lifted her head as she was addressed, quirking a slender brow. With the meeting winding down and wrapping up, she’d been gathering her papers into a neat pile.   
  
“May I speak with you a moment? After?”    
  
“Of course,” she replied easily, though something in her gaze was calculating. Like she was sizing him up. If this was about the previous afternoon, she wasn’t particularly interested in hearing him stumble through an explanation of why she shouldn’t have kissed him.   
  
As the others filed out, she stood and leaned against the table patiently, both of them staring at the ground until the door finally shut behind the last officer.

“With all due respect, I--” Ana didn’t make it much further than that because he was grasping her wrist and hauling her closer. He caught her up in a fierce and sudden kiss, more than enough to steal her breath away. 

The unexpected kiss lasted until the world spun and she felt dizzy, fingers curling around the lapels of his jacket to steady herself. He finally pulled back and brushed some of her wayward hair behind one ear with the rest of it. She, for lack of a better reaction, laughed breathlessly.    
  
“What happened to-”

He was kissing her again before she could finish and she mumbled against his lips. “Jack.” He didn’t reply beyond grazing her lip with his teeth. She tried again more forcefully with a firm push against his chest. “Jack!” He pulled back wordlessly this time, something worried but hungry in those blue eyes. She searched them a moment longer before speaking.

“What are you doing?”

  
“What I want.” There was something pointed in the words, some culmination -- some  _ epiphany  _ he’d had since their last encounter. But they made her laugh again, the same sound all caught up in the air that shook out of her lungs.    
  
“And what about what _ I _ want?”

  
_ That _ stopped him dead in his tracks. Ana had to fight to keep up a passive expression as he stuttered his way towards a sentence. “I-- But, you--”    
  
“Relax, Jack. I’m joking,” she let him off the hook with another grin, tugging him closer by the front of the coat he wore.    
  
He all but literally melted with the flood of relief that washed over his features. They came together again, like they’d practiced it a thousand times. In a sense they had practiced all  _ but _ this-- they’d been dancing around  _ real _ intimacy for years.

This was hardly the place to do this. But he pressed in closer, held her tighter, and her heart kicked up dust in her chest until she could hardly breathe -- until she was certainly not thinking straight.  
  
She caught him off guard by dropping one hand towards his waist, deft fingers working loose the front of his belt. He pulled back, then, to appraise her. His eyes darted towards the door and then back to her with the same look to them as when he assessed a battlefield for the best strategy-- how to approach, weighing the risks versus rewards.  In short, he was overthinking things.  
  
“Quit that,” she prodded him with the knuckles of the hand still attached to the jacket at his chest. “Quit thinking, quit _analyzing_ \--  kiss me, for god’s sake, and _stop thinking_ _about it_.”   
  
He didn’t react immediately, just watched her as the words sank in and worked a certain kind of magic. She could see the release in his expression a half-second before he was pressing against her again. His hands transitioned to her lower back and tugged her away from the table. They dipped down over the curve of her ass and hooked against the back of her thighs. He lifted her then with an almost frightening ease -- one of those momentary reminders of his enhanced strength -- and settled her up on the edge of the glossy, wooden surface.   


She returned to her one handed attempt at freeing his belt, which he eventually and mercifully assisted with. She could feel his smile against her lips as he took her hand and dragged it up beneath the fitted shirt he wore beneath his coat. His hand snaked back down to the buttons on his pants, snapping them free with only a little bit of endearing clumsiness. He could be suave all he wanted, but Ana knew where and when he’d come undone. When his composure would slip. She cherished those moments of vulnerability. 

Jack’s lips dipped away from her own, tracking towards her jaw and down the slope of her neck. His light stubble scratched at her skin as she lifted a hand to the back of his head, a silent encouragement. 

He stayed there, mouthing at the curve of her throat in an all too distracting way that she very nearly missed the tug on her own belt until he’d already gotten it loose. It slithered free and coiled on the floor of the conference room when he let it go.

  
He was working a hand down the front of her pants when she laughed once more, stilling him immediately. Before he could begin to worry, she carded her hand through his hair with a chiding hum. “Oh, don’t stop on my account,” she remarked coyly, shutting her eyes as he chuckled silently at her throat in reply.

His fingers pressed smooth circles against her clit, which stole her breath again despite the thin layer of fabric between them. He ran his middle finger down lower, rubbing her in slow motions that had her tugging sharply at his hair. 

Despite the reprimand, he didn’t hurry himself along, taking his sweet time to rile her up. He waited until the soft, silky fabric stuck to her underneath his touch with the dampness he’d coaxed from her before he returned to her clit, thumbing at it all too lightly for her liking.

“You’re such a tease,” Ana murmured, highly amused by this fact but also dying for those thick, steady fingers to touch her _ properly _ . Eyes opening to peer at him, she kicked his leg just above the knee, lightly, which reminded him that she was entirely too dressed to carry on much further. 

He parted from her and retrieved his hand in order to begin unbuckling her boots, letting her toe them off and to the side before he hooked his hands under the waistband of her pants and tugged them down her legs with a backwards step. In no real time at all, Jack Morrison, of all people, had her half naked in the goddamn  _ conference room, _ shivering at the cool air on her exposed skin. 

She was a confident woman, to be sure, but she still felt her cheeks flush at their current situation. The dichotomy of their current state of (un)dress seemed particularly stark from her point of view.

Before she could say anything to diffuse the tension that she suddenly carried in her shoulders, he was moving back in to catch her in a kiss. “God, you’re  _ beautiful _ ,” he breathed against her, breaking his impromptu vow of silence. 

The words, or perhaps more the honest lilt of the final word, made butterflies escape into her body, a pleasing and fluttery feeling. It was a silly thing, but she didn’t have the time to chastise herself before he was sliding one hand down her side, over her hip and drawing her attention far, far away from anything so innocent. 

He traced his fingertips up along her inner thigh before he dipped between her legs and worked a single finger into her to the first knuckle. His breath was hot and heavy against her ear, which sent a shiver down the length of her spine as his finger sank deeper with each shallow motion.   
  
He then coaxed her to lay back with a careful nudge to her shoulder, waiting until she complied to add a second finger. The addition brought an arch to her back, eyes sliding shut yet again. He planted a hand beside her head, shadow cast across her body where he leaned over her.   
  
It didn’t take long before she grew uncharacteristically impatient, hips rocking against his touch as she breathed out his name. He slowed, looking to her with a haze to those blue eyes as her own flickered back open. She huffed, a little more red in the face than she was particularly proud of. “Get on with it.”    
  
“Are you--” He began, but Ana didn’t give him a chance to finish. Didn’t give him a chance to worry.    
  
“ _ Certain _ .” She emphasized the word with another roll of her hips. 

  
He watched her for a moment longer before bowing his head in a nod. Withdrawing his hand, he brought it down to his waist. She didn’t bother watching him for that moment, just let her gaze drift up across the ceiling which seemed to spin above her. Soon enough he was folding closer, drawing her hips a little further towards the edge of the table.    
  
She propped herself up on one elbow as he bent over her once more, one of her hands clasped around the back of his neck and toying with the soft hair there. He seemed intent on keeping his head lowered for those moments, but she shifted her hand to tip his chin up to lock eyes with him. He was still hesitating.   
  


He searched her eyes-- for what, exactly, she wasn’t sure. But he seemed to find it, judging by the way he eased his cock against her and drew her into another kiss.    
  
She gasped, a sharp intake of breath against his lips as he pushed himself into her. There was a certain discomfort to it that drew the end of her gasp into a hiss. He stilled immediately, letting her acclimate, attentive and concerned. She didn’t urge him on immediately, eyes falling shut as she evened out her breathing. It wasn’t even really  _ pain _ . It would be fine.

After a few more moments she nodded, brushing her forehead close to his. He moved again; she dropped her head back with another quiet exhale, distractedly weaving her fingers through his hair. He, mercifully, didn’t stop at this sound, but continued with a shallow rock of his hips, driving deeper only gradually.

Ana wasn’t very vocal in the field — her job was to be neither seen nor heard. Here, however, she allowed soft sounds to escape from her parted lips. It was mostly for Jack’s benefit, to communicate with and encourage him, and it worked  _ wonders. _   
  
He bottomed out after a time and paused, his breath short and harsh. He didn’t wait for long before he was rolling into her with a smooth rhythm that made her toes curl. “Damn,” she breathed appreciatively, blunt nails scratching against his neck.    
  
It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, ultimately, being fucked against the table. Still, she couldn’t find it in her to complain at that moment. Or the moment after. There was something illicit about it that she was attracted to that overpowered discomfort -- something about the papers rustled under her back carelessly and the taboo of it all. He had seemed so hesitant, so stalwart that he wouldn’t take things further than where they had been yesterday. Whatever revelation changed his mind she couldn’t be sure, but she was quite happy to enjoy the benefits. 

Jack groaned now and again as he rutted into her, one hand braced against the table and the other hooked tight against her hip to steady her where she lay. His eyes shut, shoulders rising and falling amidst his erratic breathing. His unwavering rhythm left her shaking, body tensing as felt that tight heat pool low within her. The occasional low grunt and catch of his breath left her with her own wanton sounds, caught up in him. He dominated her senses— touch and sound of course, but even the smell of his faint cologne had her drifting to a pleasant, hazy state.

The angle was working wonders, bringing a new arch to her back as she crept closer. He fucked her up to the edge and over it, drawing her orgasm out for a few blinding seconds. As her body tightened and twitched around him and beneath him, he hissed out an appreciative curse.    
  
She didn’t have much of a chance to cool off, however, because the Strike Commander was far from done. 

  
“Jack, Jack—“ She couldn’t find the words, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it only bolstered his confidence. He slipped the hand from her hip and dipped between their bodies, pressing tight circles against her clit as his pace slowed to something a  _ little _ more manageable. Her hips bucked weakly and she scrabbled for purchase against his back with her hand, wishing she could drag her nails down the skin of his back ( and wishing he’d left a mark so that she could return the favor). But perhaps that was too possessive for the two of them? Whatever this would become, if anything, she couldn’t be bothered to care about presently. The future could wait. 

  
He fucked her through another climax with this methodology before he showed any sign of getting closer himself, picking back up the pace to something that spoke of an undercurrent of desperation. Her body felt heavy and loose where it shuddered and twisted under him. As his thrusts grew harder and less even, she drew him closer until she could feel his breath on her neck.   
  
He finally came as exhaustion began to eat at her bones, rolling her up and through the last peak and into a contented bliss once more. As dazed as she was, she didn’t miss the breathy words he murmured.   
  
“I love you.”   
  
This left her chest tight, jaw locking. A harsh way to come down from it all, to be sure. But as he panted over her, her silence didn’t seem to bother him. She swallowed back the discomfort from a moment prior and guided his face towards hers for another brief kiss before pushing lightly against his chest to signal him to get up.    
  
He withdrew from her tight heat with a low sound and the back of his hand stroked down the side of her face before he straightened up completely. She rested against the table, chest rising and falling. Her clothes, what she still wore, felt heavy and stuck to her skin. She needed to shower something fierce.    
  


Jack offered her a hand, which she took gratefully in order to pull her upper body from the tabletop, sitting up properly now on the edge. 

“Well that was...unexpected,” she mused aloud as he handed her the discarded pieces of her attire for her to redress, ever the gentleman.   
  
“Yeah,” he replied, half committed to the word, one hand combing through his hair that had grown mussed by her hand while they fucked. 

She searched his downcast eyes and even expression for some sign of regret, the pretense of anxiety cropping up within her ribs. She slid to the floor as she shimmied her way rather gracefully back into her loose pants, searching the floor for her boots in order to hyper fixate on something that wasn’t his potentially negative reaction to what they’d just done.

“Hey—“ he caught her by the shoulder as she straightened from snagging one of her boots, drawing her gaze back towards him.

It would seem he had spoken before he knew what else to say, considering his parted lips and eyes flitting between hers. He fumbled for words and finally sighed, removing his hand from her shoulder. “It’s uh, been awhile. How’d I do?”

At this, she felt relief hit her like a goddamn train, nearly sweeping her off her feet. She felt a laugh bubble out of her before she could stop it, shaking her head as she knelt to tuck her feet into the respective shoe. “A little vanilla. Not too bad.” Once her boots were tightened up to just below her knees, she drew herself up to her full height —which still was dwarfed by his own. 

  
“Yeah? Guess we’ll have to practice. Get me up to par.” He wore a grin now, far less bashful than he’d been a few moments prior as he pulled her back against him. His words rather heavily implied a future — implied  _ repetition _ .     
  
She wasn’t going to complain about  _ that _ .


	6. Conflict

 

The air sat still and heavy in the room. The subtle click of teeth as she bit at her thumbnail joined the ticking of the clock on her desk to create an uneven, staccato rhythm that was anything but calming. She tossed a glance towards the clock, checking the time. They weren’t supposed to meet until nine-thirty, another forty-six minutes, but she was growing impatient and anxious-- two odd emotions to grip the sniper. Her patience was legendary and her level head was one of the things that made her such an appealing second-in-command. And yet…   
  
Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer, dragging herself to her feet and throwing on a sized-up jacket. She was dressed down: a black, high-necked top, cut off at her ribs and the shoulder; loose grey pants; and simple black boots laced up to just below her knee. It was her usual training attire, sans the jacket. 

 

It had been three days since she had rendezvoused with Jack in the conference room. They hadn’t spoken about it since, strictly meeting for professional reasons. There hadn’t been much time to talk things out, granted, but Ana would’ve preferred to break the silence on the subject. Perhaps whatever had possessed him in that moment had passed. Perhaps he regretted the entire instance. Ana tried not to give it too much thought-- no use wasting energy worrying over what she couldn’t do anything about. 

 

Wrapped up in her thoughts, she arrived at the West Wing without realizing she’d left her room, her bag slung across her shoulders.. 

 

Shaking herself free of the distractions, she headed for the training rooms, catching the nail of her thumb between her teeth as she had been doing before.   
  


There was a bench in the room they’d chosen, but other than that it was devoid of furnishing. The ground was covered by a soft, springy mat. It had enough give to it that anyone who took a tumble would  _ probably _ be fine. They’d had accidents that required the medical team’s intervention, but those were few and far between.    
  
She settled onto the bench and let her bag thump onto the ground. She fished around for the slip profile of her phone and retrieved it, eyeing the messages for anything critical she might’ve missed on her thoughtful walk over. Nothing demanded her immediate attention, so she pulled her headphones out of the side pocket and scrolled to her selection of music. 

 

Picking out a few Spanish guitar tracks that Gabriel had turned her on to, she let the lilt and scratch of the strings push away the troublesome concerns she couldn’t quite fight off otherwise. She shrugged off the jacket, feeling a curious moment of discomfort that was gone as quick as it came. From there, she began to stretch, languid and slow. She had plenty of time, after all. 

  
Caught up in the instrumental pieces and her extended routine, she was startled by the dark shape of someone in the doorway when she turned around at one point. Jolting minutely, she relaxed when she saw who it was, offering up a smile as she pulled the headphones down around her neck.    
  
“Good evening, Gabriel.”    
  


“Evening. Get bored waiting for me? Hope you haven’t been here too long, that meeting ran a little late.”   
  


“They always do,” she replied easily as he entered the room, dressed in his usual clothes. His uniform, more self assigned than anything, wasn’t the decorated mess that her official uniform was. He could choose practicality over presentability, but she was denied that luxury. She much preferred the equipment she wore into the field. 

 

He began stripping out of the accoutrements that accompanied the hoodie and pants combination he wore most often. Once he was left in naught but the hoodie, pants, and boots, he arched his back and cracked his knuckles. “You look tired. If you want to do this another time, we can. Everything alright?” There was that note of concern in his tone that brought a warm smile back to her face.

 

“I’m just fine, don’t you worry. It’s already been too long since last time, I could use the practice.”

 

Back when Gabriel lead the initial strike team that would later become the organization they now both worked for, he had taken to teaching her proper hand-to-hand combat after realizing her lack of real training. Since the end of the Crisis and the establishment of Overwatch as it was today, they had tried to meet weekly. With the conflicts in their schedules, this wasn’t always possible. She found herself missing their few hours when the week didn’t work out as planned. It wasn’t uncommon for them to go days without seeing one another, and there was a certain intimacy in combat training that she enjoyed. 

 

She turned the music off and set her headphones on the bench near her things, fetching the tape to wrap up her hands as he did the same. The silence between them was usually a comfortable one, as easy and as natural as speaking, but today Ana felt a little stifled by it. 

 

Gabriel wasn’t yet privy to the events in the conference room.

 

There weren’t secrets between the three of them-- not ones that were easily kept. When you knew someone as well as they knew one another, lying was difficult business. They knew every tic and tell of dishonesty, after all. She was  _ going _ to tell him, she just wasn’t sure  _ when _ .

Gabriel finished first, likely less distracted than Ana, and centered himself in the room, doing a few short stretches of his own by way of a quick warm up. 

 

Once she was finished, she joined him there and they squared up. 

 

He threw the first punch -- almost always did -- and hit nothing but the air as Ana ducked under it. 

 

Throwing a jab, she glanced up towards him. “How’s work been?” They made light conversation about their week when they would spar. Originally it had been to enable Ana to focus on two things at once when she was in combat, but now it was their usual method of keeping up with each other’s lives and funny anecdotes. 

  
“Hectic, just the way I like it.” He grinned, lunging closer for a grapple that she darted away from with a kick up towards his jaw.   
  
He caught her leg with his forearm, knocking her off balance as he deflected her attempt. She spun her leg down and twisted about in the process, just in time to avoid a chest-height blow intended to land her backwards.    
  
They squared back up, circling momentarily before he struck again. She relied heavily on being faster than her opponent, keeping herself hard to hit. She knew damn well that Gabriel and Jack were both capable of catching her regardless, but they pulled their punches with her, both literal and metaphorical. 

 

“Morrison’s been in such a  _ mood _ ,” Gabe advanced, backing her up a few paces. She nearly stumbled at this news, which the other took immediate advantage of. Pushing forward, his next punch landed against her raised arm as she caught her balance and defended her face and chest. 

 

“Oh?” She managed the simple syllable between to blows to his chest, only one of which landed before he smacked her away.

 

“Yeah, won’t talk to me about whatever it is that’s bugging him either.”

 

“You know how he is--” She had to break off with a huff as she narrowly avoided a hook from the super soldier.

 

“You’re defensive today,” he noted, which caught her as off guard as the punch that smacked into her sternum and knocked the wind out of her. She stumbled with a heavy cough, trying to piece together her composure and avoid the two follow up strikes. 

 

“What? I--” She was scrambling for both breath and a defense before he spoke again.

 

“You’re dodging more than you’re throwing.” 

 

“Oh.” Right. The match.

 

“Why? Something going on with you too?” He pushed forward, something aggressive in his posture and tone, and she shuffled back accordingly. He faked another lunge and then swept her legs out from under her when she moved to roll to the side. She struck the ground with a grunt and tried to push herself up quickly enough to avoid what came next. 

 

He caught her arm and wrenched it out from under her, dragging her up as he twisted it behind her back. Still on her knees but upright, she threw an elbow backwards, catching his thigh. In response, he increased the pressure on the coil of her arm. 

 

“Gabriel!” He released her arm and set a boot between squarely between her shoulders, pushing her back down and flattening her against the ground. 

 

“Ana.” 

 

He didn’t press hard, but he wouldn’t let her up. She thrashed briefly before slapping the mat, signalling the end of the match. 

 

He didn’t move; he already knew.

 

“Reyes!”

 

“I gave you a chance to tell me.”

 

“I was going to…”

 

“But you didn’t.” 

 

She shifted under his heel, gritting her teeth. He was making it a lot easier to brush away the guilt from not telling him sooner. “Fine. You win-- I should’ve told you. Happy now?”

 

“Not in the slightest,” he muttered, lifting his foot to let her roll onto her back and sit up.

 

Ana scowled, pushing herself back up to her feet as he headed for his own bag at the other end of the bench. “I’m sorry, alright? I made a mistake. You don’t have any business being such an ass about things.” 

 

“You don’t have any business deciding who gets to be upset by what, Amari.” He began to unwrap his hands and her anger faltered in favor of a frown.

“I am sorry.” Her voice softened and she approached him, halting halfway.

 

“I just… I didn’t expect  _ you _ to be the one to keep this from me.” 

 

She lowered her head as he turned his gaze towards her over his shoulder. “I wanted to… talk things through with Morrison before I told you.” 

 

“Good luck with that.”

 

Her chin tipped back up and her brows furrowed. Before she could question his comment, he laughed -- a hollow sound. “He’s always been bad about that.” 

 

And then his reaction made sense. 

 

“You two…”

 

“Started back in the SEP. Never said shit about it. Still hasn’t.”

 

“I see.” She bit at the inside of her cheek before she abandoned her approach and headed for her end of the bench instead. “I didn’t realize.”

 

“It’s fine.” He zipped the bag shut once he’d stowed his gear inside it, hefting it up by the shoulder strap.

  
“It’s not like you ever said anything though… It’s a bit hypocritical to get upset with me for doing what you’ve done for years.”

 

“Yeah? Well you’re supposed to be better than I am.”

 

“It’s not my fault that you hold me to some bizarre standard!”

 

He rounded on her, then, and she stiffened minutely, fingers curling tighter around the wrap balled up in her fist. 

 

“You’re so goddamn intuitive, Ana, but you can be blind as hell.” 

 

“What are you-” He closed the gap before she could finish and caught her by the chin, leaning down to kiss her as he tilted her head up. 

 

She froze for a moment before he pulled away and resettled the strap against his shoulder, turning away. 

 

“I’ll see you next week.”

 

“Gabriel, wait--” 

 

“Do me a favor and talk to Morrison,” He called back over his shoulder as he exited the training room, disappearing down the hallway. 


End file.
